Beside You
by CookiesFly
Summary: Throughout the date all she could do was picture how different it could have been with him. How the end of the date would've ended in kisses instead of almost tears. And despite wanting to tell him the truth, she knew this was overstepping it. Mentioning that would tear open wounds that had barely started to heal.


After long last I have decided to come back and write another Blackstairs story. Just wanted to mention that even though I had no intent of having this story be a continuation of 5MtM, as I was writing, I realized that it could just as easily be a continuation. So I am leaving up to you to decide for yourself. I used a quote from City of Ashes so that obviously does not belong to me.

With that, enjoy and I apologize if this is a but rusty or OOC or super duper cliche. I haven't written anything in a while and it seems like the only thing I'm good at is awful angst. Wanted to also thank Amanda (infernalandmortal on tumblr) for helping to beta the story.

The title of the story comes from the 5 Seconds of Summer song of the same name.

Enjoy!

* * *

 _She sleeps alone.  
_ _My heart wants to come home.  
_ _I wish I was, I wish I was beside you.  
_

Emma stumbled through the darkness of the institute, her stomach growling loudly. It had been a long day: first she was late for training, then she burned her tongue on her lunch, then there was no hot water for her shower and above all else, the date she had been looking forward to with Jamie was a complete disaster, but then again, compared to her parabatai, everyone else failed in comparison.

"Am I not entitled to even a moment of enjoyment today?" She asked herself, making her way into the kitchen. Food always made things better, and she was sure there was still some mint chocolate chip ice cream left in the freezer. Of course, what she wanted most was to go into Julian's room, get under the covers and talk about how bad her day had been, but that was impossible. They had both decided that, after everything that happened it was better to not be as friendly, that it would help them get over their feelings for each other (though she doubted that would ever happen). She couldn't remember the last time they had hugged or the last time they had shared a bed. Of course, it had been a stupid idea because after months of sleeping by his side, it was nearly impossible for her to fall asleep in an empty bed. But she went along with it because Julian had been the one to suggest it.

When she walked into the room, she saw that she wasn't the only one who was craving a snack. She knew it was him from the way he leaned against the fridge door, the light illuminating his figure as if he were an angel. She stood there a few moments, just staring at his back, lean and defined. She remembered how it had felt under her touch and shuddered at the thought.

"Oh hey there Miss 'I had a date so I bailed on our plans'," he turned around quickly flashing her a smirk.

"Oh don't give me that," she replied, making her way over to the small island nestled right near the fridge, "I told you about this date ages ago and you said it was okay. Besides, you obviously kept yourself busy." Up close, she could see the splotches of paint all over his white shirt. She would never understand why he wore white while painting.

He shrugged, "Eh, it hasn't been so good lately. I haven't been able to get a clear image of anything. Like I have all these ideas but they just won't come out." This had been going on for months, and it took Emma a few weeks to realize that his painter's block had started a few days after their so called break-up. She hadn't mentioned anything to him though.

"And you think something in there," she pointed to the fridge, "will help?" "Of course!" he replied, a huge grin spreading along his face. "When has food ever NOT solved a problem?" He paused before continuing, "But enough about me, how was your big date?" She could hear the sadness breathing through his words and knew he was asking out of politeness.

She could tell him that it went great; that he had been the perfect gentleman, given her flowers (which she wouldn't have liked anyway), held open the door for her (which she wouldn't have liked either, but would've appreciated the sentiment), was able to make her laugh (which was impossible because he was as dry as a sack of potatoes) and they had already made plans to see each other tomorrow. But what good would that do? If you can't tell the truth to the people you care about the most, eventually you stop being able to tell the truth to yourself.

"It was pretty darn awful honestly. He was just so…" _Wrong...he wasn't you_ , she wanted to say.

Throughout the date all she could do was picture how different it could have been with him. How the end of the date would've ended in kisses instead of almost tears. And despite wanting to tell him the truth, she knew this was overstepping it. Mentioning that would tear open wounds that had barely started to heal and the last thing she wanted was to remind either of them of the guilt and anxiety that had filled them both over their relationship.

Shaking her head as if to clear it, Emma continued, "He was so impolite and the way he chewed his food was getting annoying. We didn't even have time to talk he was so busy eating." She saw Julian try to stop from bursting out in laughter, but continued anyway. "It's part of the reason I got home so early, I just couldn't stand one more minute with him. It's kind of sad, he had so much prospective."

"Boy," Julian started, not even bothering to hold back his laughter now, "you really do know how to pick them, don't you, Em?"

"And what does that say about you?" She responded without even thinking what she had said.

As he locked eyes with her, she felt her stomach drop, "Well, I'm not like the rest of them, am I?" His voice was deeper somehow, and as she stared into his eyes, she knew that his thoughts mirrored her own. Neither of them would ever find someone as good as the other, no matter where they looked; their hearts belong only to each other.

"Its...it's getting late, I better go," Emma replied, turning her way to go out of the kitchen. She should leave before she said more things that would steer the conversation to a place she wasn't sure she wanted it to go. Before she was able to make a step out the door, he was standing in front of her, his left arm gently holding her forearm. Despite his gentle touch, she could still feel the heat emanating from him, sending her heart into a flutter. She had missed this, missed his touch, missed him looking at her the way he was looking at her now – eyes filled with what she could only think of as hope and joy and elation and need.

Emma wasn't sure how long they stood there, still and silent like two statues, having a conversation with no words: _I miss you; I miss us; I regret what we did. Can we go back and never become parabatai? I love you._

His stare became more hypnotic the longer she stared at him and she quickly realized she had not taken a breath since the moment his hand made contact with her skin. She couldn't force herself to breathe; her brain was too focused on the thoughts of their nights together: the feel of his skin against hers, the sound of her name coming from his mouth. She was broken out of her reverie by a new sensation, the feeling of him cupping her cheek. Before she could even process the new feeling, he quickly pulled away. His voice was so soft and quiet, despite how close she was him, she had a hard time hearing him.

"So, it's a safe bet that you have not had dessert today, and I think after the day both of us have had, we deserve something sweet." She could see him trying to catch his breath as he made his way to the freezer. She could still feel the imprints of his hands on her arms and cheek as he called her name out.

"Emma...EMMA."

"Yeah, sorry... I was just lost in thought, no thanks to you," that last part was supposed to be quiet, but she was still recovering from their brief moment. He gave her a sad smile before continuing.

"So I have good news and bad news. The good news is that we will be having dessert tonight," he began and she wondered how there could even be bad news, "but the bad news is that we don't have any mint chocolate chip ice cream." She saw as he walked around the kitchen, placing a large (huge actually) bowl, a carton of milk and a box of Lucky Charms on the island.

Of course he would know her favorite ice cream flavor, they were friends, best friends, but that hadn't stopped the butterflies from forming in her stomach. She had a sudden flashback of a five months ago, after they had come back from a day on the beach, sunburned and wet, after a random thunderstorm. It was one of those days she knew she would never forget because it was one of the last times they had spent together. Though they were exhausted, they were also hungry and decided to sneak into the kitchen for a late night snack; there was nothing in the fridge so they decided to make cookies, but of course, they ended up burning the cookies because they were too "preoccupied with one another".

"Start pouring," he said, a devious smile forming on his face, "I'm going to go try to find some spoons". She wasn't sure if he lied about the ice cream as he hated that flavor, but honestly she wouldn't complain. As she was pouring the cereal, he raced around the room in search of the spoons. She couldn't help but giggle at his bizarre behavior; he knew where the spoons were, they were near where she was sitting. It was only then that she realized why he had a devious smile on his face – he was doing this for her. He was being goofy and trying to cheer her up after her bad day because that's what friends do. _Friends_ , she would never get used to the word.

"Woah, I know you like cereal," he started straightening the box and removing it from her hands, "but save a little bit for the rest of us." She realized that she had gotten so distracted by his antics she had poured almost all of the cereal into the bowl.

"It isn't my fault you gave me the biggest bowl you could find," she teased, sticking out her tongue to him. He simply shook his head and poured just enough milk into the bowl; she thought he said something under his breath but she wasn't sure.

As if on purpose, she went to grab her spoon at the same time he did, making their hands collide. She felt a shock as if had stuck her fingers into an electrical socket. Looking up, Emma had a hard time reading the expression on the face of her _parabatai_ , which was unusual, but she figured it mirrored her own. Pulling her hand back, now with spoon in hand, she began eating the cereal. Despite the sugary substance in her mouth, she could only focus on that shock she felt. Had it always been like that for them? Had their touches always elicited such responses from both of them, or was it because they hadn't for so long?

They sat in a silence that wasn't uncomfortable yet wasn't something she could stand for a long while either. Even though she would always want more, she figured if this is how their lives would be she would be content; it was better than nothing. As he lowered his spoon she thought he had had enough and would leave, but instead he took one of her hands in both of his, causing her to drop her spoon and look straight at him.

His voice was as soft as a whisper as he continued playing with her fingers,"How do you do this?"

"Well, Jules," she smiled teasingly, not aware of the serious expression on his face, "You use the muscles in your hand to raise the spoon to your mouth and…"

"Not that, Emma," she was cut off by not only his voice but also the vice grip on her hand. "How...how do you bring yourself to go on dates, and continue to remain so happy all the time?" While she wasn't surprised he brought up the topic, especially after their earlier conversation, she was surprised he even assumed she was happy.

"I'm not happy Jules," she responded, looking at their hands on the table, "But if you think that I am, then maybe I am a good actress." The words flowed out of her and there was nothing to stop them now. "Each day is basically the same: I get up and try to occupy myself with chores and training as much as I can to try to forget the fact that you aren't there like you used to, which isn't as easy as it seems since you are always there. Then when I climb into bed and try to tell myself that you are still right there with me, but of course its not the same, the thought of you has never been able to compare to you actually being there, so I just lay around and fall asleep a few hours before I have to wake up again. I keep going on these stupid, pathetic dates because I keep hoping that someone will be able to get rid of this numbness that's been inside of me; I keep waiting for someone to make me _feel_ something again, but I've felt more with you in the past 10 minutes than I've felt on any of those stupid dates. So I'm not doing this Jules, I'm just pretending to, and I'm not sure how long I will be able to keep faking it."

A familiar silence engulfed them again and she thinks that she did overstep, that her initial thoughts to withhold things from him was the right thing to take, but then he starts talking and she knows that this was the right thing to say; that the battle she first had when she had entered the room was over and she had made the right choice. "Today, when I painting I realized why I haven't been able to get any clear pictures and I feel so stupid for not realizing it sooner. I realized that my one source of inspiration was cut off and-"

"Yeah, I know," she cut him off.

"Of course you would know," he responded, as if he can't believe it and yet he can.

"And I have trouble sleeping too, and I honestly can't function the same way anymore, it's as if something shifted and even though nothing on the surface has changed. We are still us, we are still _parabatai_ , but everything still feels different. Its like a piece of me is missing and...and I know where that piece is, but I don't know how to fix it."

"Jules," she began, this time, taking her free hand and covering both of his, which were still wrapped tightly on her other hand, "we both know exactly how to fix this." She knew that the sadness that swept across his face was reflective of her own. No matter what they did, they would always end up unhappy,he had said that to her sometime ago.

Initially they thought they could make it through, as long as they had each other to cling to in the dead of the night, but even that became too much to bear. She'd once heard some teenage girls at the beach talking about star-crossed lovers and how romantic it all seemed to them. What did they know?

Not being able to stand seeing him look so upset, she moved to his side, embracing him in a tight hug. Her body, just like her hand a few moments ago, was sent into a shock that left her shivering, causing her to pull him even closer into her as if he was a parachute and she was free falling. She couldn't help but bury her face in his neck, inhaling the scene of him as his hands started roaming up and down her body. Her hands reciprocated the action, trying to memorize as much of him again as possible. She wasn't sure when she'd get to hug him again. Suddenly she pulled her head back - not on purpose, but in surprise - as soon as she felt his lips on her neck. Before she was able to ask him what he's thinking, his lips were on hers. It felt as if they hadn't kissed in hours rather than days; their lips moved in unison, knowing exactly how much pressure to apply and the exact places to bite.

The kiss seemed to go on forever, neither wanting to let go of the other for fear that reality would come crashing down on them, but eventually they had to. A passing thought crossed Emma's mind to ask Clary if she could develop a rune that would allow someone to breathing out of their ears. The sight of his green eyes so full of fire and passion and life again was enough to almost bring her to her knees. Or it could be all the kissing that was making her a bit dizzy and in need of air. He must have anticipated that because the next thing she knew, she was being pulled down as he went to sit. Not two seconds after she's in his lap, she felt his hands encircle her body as he buried his head in her hair. They sat like that for several moments,both trying to regain their composure and their breath.

"We're back to where we started, aren't we?" Emma asked. Back to the same position of not knowing what to do, of not knowing whether to go through with this or not. Last time, they made the decision on a whim, on the hope that it would work out; but now they knew just how guilty it had made both of them, how toxic it had made them. But they also knew exactly what it meant to be apart. She knew that neither of them had any idea what to do, how to go from here.

"Well," Julian whispered against her ear, "at least this time we have dessert."

* * *

I know that was angsty as heck. I have another idea for a story so I maybe writing that eventually as inspiration strikes. Thanks for reading 3


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